Once a Feeling of Perfection
by Just Mosie
Summary: He laughed, mouth opening wide with a true smile. His eyes squeezed shut, his features showing definite signs of true happiness. 3-shot, First chapter more of a prologue.
1. The Small Girl

**Disclaimer: No**

**Once a Feeling of Perfection-The Small Girl**

_The wind blew, rustling the leaves taking their residence on the trees' branches. A soft piece of dandelion flew through the air, lifting as the wind speed increased, then moved back down. A soft, chubby hand reached up, attempting to grasp at the small piece. Little bare feet hit the grass, eyes looking down as the little chubby hand opened to reveal nothing. The small girl pouted, staring at her hand before her as she felt her eyes grow wet as tears pricked into the corners of her eyes. _

_The small piece of dandelion flew upwards, not once gazing down at the small girl below it. _

_Another gust of wind broke through, moving her hair from its place behind her ear. She moved her small hand back, capturing her unruly locks of hair to push them all back to their rightful place. The girl looked up, seeing nothing but blue sky and clouds before her. She blinked softly, her long lashes following the course of her eye lids._

"_There you are, I've been calling for you," she jumped, turning her head, her eyes glittering and her mouth turning upwards into a bright smile, "I was beginning to wonder where you went off to."_

"_Daddy!" she spun completely around, her arms opened wide as she ran to her father. She smiled brightly, giggled as she saw her father kneel down before her, his arm opening wide to capture her in his arms. _

_The small girl picked up the pace, launching herself into the arms of her father. He picked her up in his arms, twirled her around as another cool breeze of wind blew through. She squealed in delight, her hands reaching up in the air as her father continued to twirl her around in his strong arms. _

"_Faster daddy! Faster!" _

_He laughed, mouth opening with a true smile. His eyes squeezed shut, his features showing definite signs of true happiness, "Daddy's getting a little dizzy, sweetheart," he slowed the pace, placing a hand on her back to keep her steady as he gently lowered his precious daughter to the ground, "You're my favourite daughter in the whole entire world."_

_She smiled, fingers curling around the hem of her summer dress, "But daddy, I'm your only daughter," she pointed out, "And you're my only daddy!" she moved towards him again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He laughed, patting her back softly. _

_He held her close to him, letting the dizzy feeling diminish after a few moments. She pulled away from him, her eyes blinking as she reached up and rubbed her eye with her fist. _

"_Daddy?"_

"_Mhm?"_

"_Will you always be there for me?"_

_He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs sliding over the apple of her cheeks, "I will __always__ be there for me when you need me."_

"_Promise?"_

_He nodded, "I promise."_

_Then he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. He moved back, smoothing her hair down as he prepared himself to stand. The small girl extended her hand out to him. He gladly took it, swinging it playfully. She joined in, giggling as she did so. _

_Life seemed perfect, and the little piece of dandelion was a witness to this perfect moment in time._

_~.~_

This story is hopefully to be a 3-shot...Well this chapter is kind of a mini prologue for the next two. It's kind of my usual-angsty. I've been quite a bit busy with personal life and Summer Secret Santa over on the Jello Forever Boards. Yes, writing is indeed not as easy as one might think ;)

I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. Please?


	2. Return to the House in Malibu

**Look what I got done! **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, subscribed and favourited! This is dedicated to you guys :) **

**Disclaimer: Seriously…do you think I can own The Mentalist? I have no chance. **

**Once a Feeling of Perfection-Return to the House in Malibu**

Patrick Jane slid down the cushions of his leather sofa. His feet now pressed firmly on the ground as he placed his hands on his thighs, sliding them up and down, fingers barely tracing across the smooth fabric. His eyes slipped shut as he exhaled steadily.

"_Daddy?"_

His eyes snapped open, body moving forward abruptly, searching around the almost empty bullpen. He gripped on tighter to the fabric of his pants, allowing his breath to hitch in his throat as he turned his head, ignoring the painful beating of his heart in his chest, looking to where Cho and Rigsby usually would be if they weren't following a lead on their latest case, a case of little importance. He looked around, where Van Pelt would be if she had not dismissed herself thirty minutes earlier to go grab herself a salad from the little café around the corner.

Slowly he allowed his body to move back into the cushions, allowing his muscles to relax. He kept still, not wanting to move in effort to slow his frantic heartbeat. He shut his eyes, feeling his body shudder without warning. He inhaled sharply, fidgeting on the sofa as he shook his head.

_Blonde curls bouncing on the shoulders of a small girl as she set after that little piece of a dandelion. Her giggles and eagerness to capture the so small and yet to intricate part of mother nature. She twirls, spinning ungracefully as she prepares to jump up. She thinks she gets it, overjoyed at the very thought, then her hopes crushed when she notices that her hand is bare. The little blonde girl pouts, her brows furrowing as a look of disappointment etches itself across her face. _

"Jane? You okay?" his eyes open, first landing on Grace entering the bullpen, one hand holding onto a plastic take-out container and the other holding a forkful of salad.

He nodded, "Yes, Grace, I'm fine, why do you ask?" the red-head shrugged her shoulders.

"You were just gazing off into space," she lifted the fork to her lips, opening them to allow the utensil to path through, "And sad."

"I'm fine, Grace."

"All right," she spoke, turning back towards her desk to flop back down into her desk chair. She pushed her keyboard out of the way, setting the container down so she could continue eating her meal.

Jane did not want her to ask any more questions, not wanting to have to lie to her or make her suspicious, so he left. Momentarily excusing himself to the men's room. She just nodded, not taking any more interest in him, her attention fully on her lunch. He let out a small sigh when he was out of the bullpen as he flicked his eyes over his shoulder, glancing back at the red-head, who was now pulling something up on her computer with a very focused expression on her face.

"_Will you always be there for me?"_

He slipped his eyes shut; his lip trembled slightly as he squeezed his eyes even tighter. His hand curled into a slight fist as his head barely moved to its side. Reopening his eyes, he sped up his pace, heading straight for the men's room. No one needed to see such sad expressions plaguing his face. He felt ashamed – no one should ever see the mighty Patrick Jane show any other emotion other than the carefree man who disregarded anything in a rulebook.

* * *

That night he had returned to his Malibu house down by the beach. Through the duration of the drive back to 'home', he found himself loosening and retightening his grip on the skinny steering wheel in his old yet faithful Citroën. Thoughts of his daughter still plagued his mind, his promise to be there whenever she would need him. He failed her, left her and her mother inside their Malibu home at the 'mercy' of Red John.

When he pulled into the all-too-familiar home, he wanted to put the car in reverse and completely leave this neighbourhood. But something prevented him from doing such, he didn't know what, but he felt like something was drawing him back into that house. Sure, he did return occasionally to feel more comfortable to 'talk' with his deceased wife and child, but on a regular basis he tried to refrain from contact. Constant painful memories are what this house reminded him of. So instead of leaving the neighbourhood, he killed the engine and quickly pushed open the door, ignoring the usual squeak from the old door.

Jane looked up, blinking softly as wind rustled his hair. The house looked exactly the same, maybe it could use a few new landscaping tips, but other than that the house looked to be in good shape. Sighing to himself, Jane tightened his grip on the car door and pushed it shut. His gaze followed it for a few seconds before he trailed his eyes back up towards the house. Nothing was on inside, it looked dead, like no one had lived in there for several years. That was partially correct. He had not really lived there since their death. Shaking his head and mumbling something incoherent under his breath, he moved forward, towards the front door of the house. He stepped over the all-too familiar crack in the pavement, almost grinning like an idiot because he actually remembered that. Shaking his head once more, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a separate set of keys and reached down to stick them in the lock. He turned them to the left, hearing it click. He smiled grimly before pushing the door open. It creaked, almost telling him not to go in.

With his hand resting still on the door, he stepped in. Afterwards he reached behind and pushed it closed, locking it effectively. Without another hesitation, he placed the keys back into his pocket, patting it to make sure it was placed in there safely. Jane took a few steps, looking up towards the stairs. His heart began to pound in his chest as he softly began to make his way towards it. His hand outstretched, reaching out to grasp onto the railing. Wrapping his hands around it, he placed one foot on the staircase. Shutting his eyes, he breathed in then out. Opening his eyes he took a more confident step up, feeling his heart beat continuously against his chest. He gripped the railing tighter, propelling himself forward. His foot hit the one loose step, hearing it squeak and protest under his weight was almost like déjà vu to him.

Once he got to the top of the stairs, he stared down the hallway, eyes locking onto the one door at the far end. He shifted as he continued to stare. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered what he saw in that very room seven years ago. He swallowed, feeling his throat slightly burn from whatever formed. Again he began to move forward, his heart beating rapidly against his chest when his hand reached out, barely brushing against the knob. His breath hitched in his throat when his head bent down slightly, his breathing became ragged as his eyes flickered back up. With more confidence, he slipped his hand around the knob, tightly pushing it forward. The door swung, squeaking like his other inanimate objects before. All protesting at him. His eyes adjusted, seeing everything like it was before.

One step forward.

Two Steps

Three Steps

He was in the room, making his way towards the bloody smilie face tainting his white wall where their bed had previously been. He stopped, barely in front of the wall. His hand reached up, barely brushing against the fading blood.

"_I will __always__ be there for you when you need me."_

"_Promise?"_

He squeezed his eyes shut, lips trembling. A wave of emotions moved through his body, making his knees immediately going weak, almost buckling. He turned, now on his back as he slowly began to descend down the wall, not even wanting to slow down. He hit the floor with a loud 'thump' noise, but he ignored it. He shuddered, blinking softly when he felt something wet fall and hit his knuckles. He looked down, seeing a little droplet of water resting on him, turning his hand, he watched it fall, trickle down his hand towards the carpet.

"_I Promise..."_

_~.~_

Angsty? I like angst, as I made clear before. I tried to right humour not too long ago but…it didn't come out so well.

I like hearing from people(:


	3. Not Alone

**Anna-Thank you, here is the next and final chapter(:**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this.**

**Once a Feeling of Perfection-Not Alone**

His eyes opened, blinking rapidly at the sudden sound of a door opening and closing. Inside his chest felt his heart begin to beat rapidly at the eerie silence following the movement downstairs. Jane's eyes moved around the room, for anything he could use to defend himself. There was nothing in here except a mattress and a pillow. What could he do, smother his intruder? He thought about pulling out his phone, dialling for Lisbon, but she wouldn't be able to get from Sacramento to Malibu that fast, especially with her driving abilities. Maybe calling Cho? Telling him to make Rigsby drive, but something was telling him that not even Rigsby's driving could get them to Malibu in time. Instead, he stood up, using the wall behind him as some sort of support. He continued to look around the room, really hoping that something might just magically appear to his aide.

"Jane?" he paused, "Are you here?" it was Lisbon? His intruder was Lisbon. What was she doing _here_ instead of back at the CBI?

"In here!" he shouted, sliding back down towards the floor, hitting the ground with a slight 'thud'.

Only moments after vocalizing his location, he heard Lisbon's footsteps begin to climb up the stairs. Her footsteps almost seemed hesitant, like she didn't want to come up. Maybe she thought she was invading his privacy by entering his home. In a way she sort of already had done so when she came after him.

He heard more motion, coming closer to the door. She stepped on a loose floorboard; he winced and turned his head to the side, knowing well enough that any second she would enter this room and see the Red John smiley painted in dry blood on his wall. She would see him sitting beneath it, like he does quite regularly, but this time _she_ was going to be present. _She _was actually going to see it for the first time with her own eyes. The very thought of seeing her face as she gazes upon this reminder that he has failed made his stomach twist into a tight knot.

The door opened, and his breath hitched in his throat. His heart pounded against his chest as Lisbon's body moved through the door, her hesitant eyes scanning around the room with slight curiosity. She stopped, fingers barely slipping off the knob when her eyes landed on Red John's trademark. Her mouth parted, her eyes memorizing every inch. Then her gaze drifted downwards, seeing her consultant sitting on the floor, a lost expression present on her face. Jane hadn't wanted her to ever see him like this, to see this room in this present condition. The very thoughts had always scared him, intimidated him even. Someone else seeing this room meant that they knew of the very conditions he lived in.

"Jane?" her voice was soft, remaining questionable, "Are you okay?" this time her voice wavered, her eyes flickering from his body back up to the smiley.

He nodded, "Yes, Lisbon," she didn't look convinced. He knew it would take more to convince her that he was really fine, but for some reason he did not have the energy to do so.

"Jane…" her voice continued to be full of softness, almost as if she were begging him to talk to her. To tell her what he truly felt. Honestly he thought he was fine. Regularly he thought of his daughter, it was not anything new that he nor she should have to be worried about. He wished Lisbon would recognise this, "Why are you living like this?"

He knew she was going to ask something like that, but not exactly in those words. He knew she cared, but he wished she did not care as much as she does. He sighed, eyes looking up into hers, "Because this is the only place I feel connected to them," it was true, it was also a place of connection he felt towards Red John. He needed these connections, without them he felt that he would not be able to go on. The smiley was an everyday reminder of what he must do in the near future. No one could change his mind about what he felt he needed to do. Not even Lisbon. He trusted her, possibly even had feelings for her, but he could tell her it was actually a connection to Red John. She could only know it was a connection to his family.

She continued to look at both him and the smiley. Her gaze still questionable and worried about his wellbeing. Lisbon shook her head solemnly, moving closer to him until she stood beside him, her fingertips softly brushing against the wall behind her as she slowly slid herself down to sit near to him. She kept her gaze forward, not even bothering to toss her head to the side and look into his eyes. He wondered what she was thinking, he knew she was uncomfortable, but that was completely it. Usually Lisbon was an easy read but now—she was hard. He did not know how to 'get into her mind' and see her emotions. Jane turned to study her, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest and the slow moving of her eyelids.

"You shouldn't live like this," she kept her voice soft, "No one should," she slowly brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them as she leaned forward, resting her chin on top of her knees. She turned her head to look in his direction, "Please tell me what's bothering you."

Jane shook his head, drawing his mouth into a thin line, "I do not think that is a good idea, Lisbon."

He listened to her breathe a hard sigh of frustration. He immediately felt guilty for the upcoming headache that was brewing, but she got herself into this mess alone.

"Jane…" she didn't sound angry, "Please, I want you to know that you are not alone," she turned to look at him, her gaze almost penetrating his, "You have people around you who care about you and who are willing to help you if you need it," she paused, searching for words as her eyes moved around his face, "Please talk to me."

He breathed in and out, his body stiffening as he leaned back farther against the wall. Jane bunched his shoulders upwards, then letting them relax into a heap, "I remember my daughter," he did not want to look at her, to see her facial expressions, "I remember telling her that I promised to keep her safe."

"Jane…"

"I _promised_ I would be there when she needed me the most, Lisbon, you just simply don't understand that," he felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, he stiffened his body more viscously, not wanting Lisbon to see him showing weakness, "I promised I would protect her from harm."

Beside him, he felt Lisbon shift, only hearing the rustling of the clothes she was wearing a soft sigh escaping her lips. He felt a hand brush against his shoulder, pressing down to show a bit of comfort. Her fingers clenched around his shoulder, squeezing it as she allowed the warmth of her hand to seep through the layers of his clothing, allowing him to feel some of the warmth of her comfort. He looked up, head turning to face her slowly. She smiled weakly, her hand slowly withdrawing from his shoulder and back to rest on her knees.

"My dad promised to protect me too, Jane," she looked at him again, "This one time I remember specifically was when I was little," she stopped, her breath hitching in her throat, "I was running around outside playing around with dandelions," Jane could see the tears forming in her eyes. He felt a few of his tears slip past his eyelids, trailing down his cheeks as he stared into her, "He promised to always be there for me."

A tear slid down her cheek, rapidly going downwards. She pushed up her hand, catching the tear before it would slip off her face, "After my mother died, he changed, as I guess you know," she flashed him a look, he nodded towards her. He knew well enough that Lisbon had been abused by her alcoholic father when she was young. If he were still alive, Jane would make sure he knew what he did was wrong. Jane also knew that Cho and Rigsby would back him up on it and most likely join him.

"Let's just say he wasn't there for me anymore," she smiled softly, not looking at him. In a way he was a bit glad that she would not, he did not know what he would do if he saw her pained expression, as her words had suggested, "You're not alone, Jane. You're not the only one who has experienced unfair loss in your lifetime."

"I broke my promise…"

"And I had my promise broken. Either way Jane it's horrible and we were both screwed. Saying that you will be there for someone forever and be able to protect them is just an empty promise," he heard her voice hitch, knowing full well that she hated her own words. Another tear slipped down his cheek as he shut his eyes, letting his bottom lip quiver for a few moments. He felt regret and sorrow every day, knowing that he had promised something and it had been broken.

"I used to tell her that she was my favourite daughter, just as a joke," he chuckled grimly, feeling tears continue to form. He felt them fall from his eyes, not even caring where they landed. He felt a shiver go down his spine, knowing full well that he was on the brink of weeping much harder than ever before. It has only happened a few times, never in the presence of anyone.

"Dad used to tell me the same thing," Jane looked over at her, seeing her expression. Pain, hurt, and betrayal. All running across her features as slowly turned to face him once more.

Jane completely lost it, feeling the dams break, he felt the tears move forward. Sobs uncomfortably wracked across his body, making his entire body shudder as he leaned back against the wall. His face contorted almost painfully, his hand reaching up to shield his eyes on an automatic reflex level. His hand reached up, pushing itself into his hair. A loud cry escaped his lips as he shuddered against, feeling his body jerk back and forth uncontrollably, his muscles contracting and gaining more and more tension as the seconds ticked by.

He moved forward, another cry filling the room as he shuddered again. He moved his hand away from his face, moving it down to grasp onto the fibres of his pants, bunching it up within his palms. Jane violently moved forward again when two arms wrapped around his frame, pulling him closer. One hand pulled him closer into a smaller chest, the other wrapping in his curls to keep his head pressed to her chest. Jane gasped, contorting his body painfully against the petite body.

"Sssh," the hand lightly moved through his curls in attempt to soothe him of his pain, "Just breathe."

He wrapped one arm around her small waist, keeping her body pinned to his. He breathed deeply, shuddering against her body again, "Breathe," she repeated, her own body shuddering against him when he felt her coming even closer to him, his head now resting in the against her collarbone. Teardrops began hitting the back of his neck, giving a soothing contrast of the cool wetness hitting his warm neck.

He breathed. He calmed.

"It was an empty promise."

His voice remained soft as he felt his body shudder one last time before he felt his body relax into Lisbon. He fell limply into her, pulling her down with him. He was asleep, dreaming of happiness and being carefree with his family like old times, as Lisbon remained awake, stroking his head and slipping a finger around one of his unruly curls.

All during that time, he thought of his family. Their warmth and happiness.

**~.~**

**In a way I thought I would do more than this, but I guess not. **

**Please review, I love hearing from people and what they think. It let's me know that people enjoy what I write. **


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